


Set the World on Fire

by Wellwater41



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Explicit Language, F/M, Nomad V (Cyberpunk 2077)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:40:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28735092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wellwater41/pseuds/Wellwater41
Summary: The new voice in V's head is getting louder.  The burning anger he feels is not his own.  For now, he and Johnny have the same goal: revenge on Arasaka.  But Johnny's personality is overwhelming and V struggles to keep him at bay.  As they grapple for control over their shared body, V tries desperately not to lose himself in the storm that is Johnny Silverhand.  Can they work together long enough to get what they want?  Does V even know what that is anymore?An AU retelling of Cyberpunk 2077 based on how I thought the story might go before I played it.  Lots of spoilers, so be warned.
Relationships: Johnny Silverhand & Male V, Panam Palmer/Male V, Panam Palmer/V
Comments: 35
Kudos: 83





	1. Prologue: Nomad Life

The north Texas sun shone harshly down, turning the sand below into an oven. No wind blew to put a damper on the heat, and the landscape provided no shade. It was as close to hell on earth as you could get. But the mood around the Aldacados camp was still upbeat. Those who didn’t have jobs were sprawled out in plastic chairs or leaning up against cars. Conversations filled in the gaps in sound that the pulsing generators made.

Underneath one of the clan’s offroad trucks, sixteen-year-old V wiped the pouring sweat from his brow with an already damp sleeve. He checked the tightness of the bolts holding the new afterburner in place, and satisfied with his work he dropped the ratchet on the ground next to him.

It was necessary work, this. And V had shown a natural aptitude towards it ever since he’d joined the family years ago. Orphaned and lost outside of what used to be New Orleans, he’d begged to join the nomad family when it had passed by. Someone had taken pity on him and he’d been with them ever since.

He was happy here. He couldn’t really remember his parents anymore, but the whole clan felt like family now, and that was nearly as good.

And if his dreams of bigger things were growing stronger, of fame and glory and being someone in a place worth going to, it still wasn’t too hard to tamp down. Nomad life could be boring, but it wasn’t all bad: there were bright spots that he would miss.

His musings were cut short as he felt the toe of a boot push down on the creeper he was laying on. Looking down, he recognized the slim leg it was attached to. It belonged to one of those bright spots, and V couldn’t help but smile as he felt his cart pulled out from underneath the truck.

“Panam,” V said, flashing her his best and brightest smile, “hey choom, nice to see you.”

“Uh-huh,” Panam fixed him with the look, the one he recognized as her ‘don’t mess with me right now’ look.

“What can I do for you?” V asked in his most innocent voice.

“My pistol, where is it?” Panam demanded, her hands moving to her hips in a way that V found very distracting.

V realized he was staring at her hips, and shook his head before meeting her eyes. She didn’t seem to notice, caught up in her anger.

“What pistol?” V asked with as much nonchalance as he could muster.

“The only pistol I own,” Panam said slowly, enunciating each word through her anger.

V fought the urge to smile. Panam was the most emotional person he’d ever met, she got angry about something ten times a day. V made sure at least half those times were because of him, if only because it made sure he got to see her. Some people in the clan made jokes about boys pulling the pigtails of girls they liked almost constantly, and V gave them the finger without fail.

“Oh, that pistol!” V snapped his fingers as if he’d just remembered, “it’s under my pillow.”

“And why is it there?” she rolled her eyes.

“Maybe you left it there last night?” V asked innocently, relishing the sputtering noise Panam made as her cheeks reddened prettily.

“Don’t make jokes like that,” Panam glared at him, “someone around here is stupid enough to believe you.”

“That hurts,” V placed a hand mockingly over his heart and smirked when Panam rolled her eyes.

Panam turned and began to walk away. V clambered to his feet, ignoring the laugh coming from behind him. That would be Mitch, the balding mechanic who always ribbed him the most. He was almost like a big brother, and V threw him the bird over his shoulder as he left the tent.

“So where are we going?” V asked Panam as he reached her side.

“I’m going to get my pistol,” Panam said flatly, “I have no idea where you’re going.”

“Guess I’m going with you then, don’t want you digging through my unmentionables.”

“Please,” Panam scoffed, “I’d rather die than go through your crap.”

“Denial isn’t a good look on you Panam,” V grinned as Panam shoved his shoulder. “Hey! Ouch!”

“Oh get over it you big baby,” Panam said, her lips quirking into a smile.

And there it was, her anger gone as fast as it came. That was how it usually went. They walked for a bit, calling out greetings and pleasantries to the other clan members they passed. V ignored the knowing looks they shot his way. Panam never seemed to notice.

“So, how’s your mom?” V asked after a bit.

“She’s alright,” Panam shrugged, “her head’s been bothering her a lot more lately, sometimes she can barely get out of bed. I hope we can find her a new deck soon.”

V nodded, full of empathy. Panam’s mom had been suffering from headaches for months due to a fault in her cyberdeck circuitry. Cybernetics were hard to find outside of the city and were never cheap. Nomads could rarely afford the more impressive tech found in the largest cities. There were even rumors about some of the more unsavory nomads engaging in grave robbing and stripping corpses for tech. V would never go that far, but he wished there was something he could do. Her mom was all Panam had left, as her father had passed when she was an infant.

“Did she talk to Lazarus?” V asked, referring to the leader of the family.

“Yeah,” Panam said bitterly, “he said we didn’t have the eddies for it and a raid was too risky. What a joke.”

V nodded in agreement. Lazarus Aldecaldo, the current leader of the Aldecaldo nation, was notoriously risk averse. Everyone knew it. He’d been leading the nation ever since his father Santiago Aldecaldo had died in the Arasaka Tower bombing half a century ago. He was pushing eighty, and set in his ways.

“Well, maybe we could do something without him knowing?” V said slowly.

“Yeah,” Panam laughed, “we’ll just go rob a Militech caravan, no problem.”

“No, I’m serious,” V said quickly, his excitement growing, “Cassidy and Saul have been out scouting a lot recently, they’d know if there was anything around.”

“Cassidy would help, but you know Saul is going straight to Lazarus,” Panam shook her head, “that’s the only reason they’re sent out together, so the boss knows what happens.”

“Then we just talk to Cass,” V argued, “Saul never hears about it.”

“I don't know V,” Panam said slowly, “I appreciate it, I really do. But they’re just headaches, it’s not worth the risk. My mom would say the same.”

“Alright,” V’s enthusiasm dimmed, “I don’t want you doing anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“You’re sweet,” Panam said, smiling at him in a way that made him feel like his brain was overheating.

“Yeah, no problem,” V said dumbly as they reached the tent where V slept.

It was small, just enough room for a cot and a chair on which he’d slung the canvas bag that held all his earthly possessions, which was really only a few sets of clothes. His sheets were bunched up messily and a loose shirt pair of socks were on the ground. V had a fleeting wish that he’d thought to straighten up earlier that morning, but Panam didn’t seem to notice.

She pulled the old Tsunami Nue pistol out from under his pillow and turned to him with a raised eyebrow.

“How did you even get this?” Panam asked as a bit of her earlier ire returned. “I swore I never even took it out of its holster yesterday, but the next thing I know it’s gone.”

“I just found it layin’ around,” V shrugged, “figured I’d keep it safe for you until I saw you next.”

“Uh-huh,” Panam said, not believing him for a second, “and the truth?”

“Pulled it off you when you were eating dinner,” V smirked, “you should really pay more attention to your surroundings.”

“Funny, I didn’t know I had to worry about thieves in the middle of my family,” Panam said sarcastically.”

“Common mistake,” V nodded sagely, “gotta have constant vigilance.”

“Right,” Panam rolled her eyes again, “well now that we’ve got that settled, I have to go help Carol with one of the generators. And I’m sure Mitch didn’t appreciate you running off either.”

“Eh, he’ll live,” V shrugged, “I was due for a break anyway.”

“I’m sure he’d agree,” Panam said sarcastically, “see you later V.”

V grunted in response as he watched her leave. He was having a harder time concealing his feelings for her as of late. It was strange, this girl he’d grown up with suddenly occupying nearly every thought. They’d both changed a great deal, but she was still his best friend and he didn’t want to jeopardize that by doing something stupid like professing his undying love. What he really needed was a gesture that showed her just how much he cared.

His mind made up, V left the tent, wondering where Cassidy would be at this time of day.

* * *

V found Cassidy leaning against his car, a Mizutani Shion so far customized it hardly even looked like the street car it used to be. The man was as he always was, gray hair slicked back, thick mustache waxed down and a pair of aviators covering his eyes.

“Hey Cass,” V greeted, handing him one of the beers he’d grabbed on the way over.

The man popped the cap with his teeth and took a long drink.

“Ah,” Cassidy sighed as he brought the drink down from his mouth, “that really hits the spot. So, whaddya want?”

“What makes you think I want anything?” V asked as he popped his own cap and took a smaller sip.

“You’re sixteen,” Cass said gruffly, “too old to be bringing me drinks out of the goodness of your heart and too young to want to shoot the shit with an old man like me. So tell me what you want.”

“What is with everyone thinking the worst of me today?” V wondered aloud.

“They probably know you,” Cass smirked and V had to laugh. He and the older man had always had a good if unconventional relationship. V thought of him as the grumpy uncle he’d never wanted.

“Fair enough,” V nodded, “I know you’ve been out scouting, was wondering if there was any chance you saw a place that might have some cybernetics that needed liberating.”

Cassidy looked at him shrewdly over the tops of his sunglasses for a long moment.

“I might have,” he said finally, “the question is, why would that matter to you? Can’t see ol’ Laz agreeing to go after ‘em.”

“Come on,” V cajoled, “everyone knows you don’t give a damn about what Lazarus says.”

“I don’t,” Cassidy agreed, “but I’ve got three or four decades of experience to justify disobeying the boss every once in a while. You don’t. So tell me what’s going on.”

“Fine,” V raised his hands placatingly. “Miss Palmer’s headaches are getting worse because of her cyberdeck, I was hoping to find a replacement out there somewhere.”

Cassidy gave him a long, searching look before he seemed to realize something and threw his head back, laughing.

“Shit boy, couldn’t you just give her some flowers?” Cassidy wiped a tear from his eye.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” V said woodenly, embarrassed at how easily everyone seemed to see through him. “Besides, does she really seem like the type of girl to want flowers?”

“No,” Cassidy shook his head in amusement, “she really doesn’t. In fact, she might shoot you if you tried.”

“Exactly,” V argued, “and it’s not just for her, there’s people all over camp that would benefit from new tech. So can you help me?”

“Fine kid, I’ll help.” Cassidy said. “But you need to understand what you’re getting into here. I know you, I know how careful you can be when it’s important. But this is life or death. If you’re caught robbing someone they’ll kill you. If you steal anything that can be tracked to us, people are going to die. That’s just how it is.”

“I know Cass,” V said solemnly, “I get it, and you know I can handle this.”

“Yeah, I do kid,” Cassidy nodded, “that’s the only reason we’re still talking. There’s a place about twenty-five miles southwest of here, an old Militech warehouse where they recycle outdated cybernetics. We could be in and out in a few hours and no one would be any wiser.”

“You’ll come with me?” V asked excitedly.

“Course I will,” Cassidy scoffed. “Can’t let you youngsters have all the fun, and who knows how you’ll muck it up without me.”

“Thanks Cass,” V grinned. “Tonight?”

“Fine,” Cassidy smirked, “meet me here around midnight and we’ll see about getting you your grand gesture.”

* * *

  
  


Twelve hours later and V was helping to drag an injured Cassidy into an abandoned shack fifty miles west of the Militech warehouse.

The job had gone poorly almost immediately. The light security turned out to be a lot heavier than Cassidy had expected. There were only a few guards, but security cameras and drones filled out the coverage. Still, V had made it in, hacked the security room computer to shut off the cameras, and was dragging a crate of brand new if outdated cybernetics, complete in packaging, when a guard had spotted him.

There was nothing for it then, they’d been forced to run. Cassidy had led them west, far away from their camp. The only saving grace had been the limited range of the drones following them. V had picked off a few, and eventually they’d stopped chasing them. Still, Cassidy kept driving as V checked the tech they’d grabbed, wiping it of any and all Militech data that could be used to track them. It was light stuff, no doubt they assumed no one would waste the time stealing outdated equipment.

After a few hours of winding through the desert, they’d spotted an abandoned house a ways off the road. The car was covered and they made themselves slowly inside.

“You’re bleeding pretty bad Cass,” V said quietly as the older man fell into the dilapidated couch.

“Eh, this is nothing,” Cass groaned, pulling out a Bounce Back from his jacket pocket. He injected it just above the bleeding hole in his arm and gave a sigh of relief.

“What about you kid,” Cass asked as his breathing returned to normal, “you good?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” V nodded, “couple of scrapes, nothing major.”

“Pity,” Cassidy sighed, “would have been a good chance to get you a scar, prove you went on a real job.”

“Pretty shitty job,” V rolled his eyes, “barely got out of it alive.”

“That’s what makes it a real job,” Cassidy smirked, but then he gave V a concerned look. “Be real with me, how are you feeling?”

“Tired,” V said with a weary smile, “I can feel it down in my bones.”

“That’s the adrenaline wearing off,” Cassidy nodded, “and during the job? How’d you feel then?”

V thought about it for a moment. He hadn’t felt a lick of fear sneaking into the warehouse, just focused. And when he was hanging out of the car taking shots at combat drones, he’d felt…

“Alive,” V said slowly, “like the rest of my life I’d just been sleepwalking and I finally woke up.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Cassidy nodded, “no wonder no one wants you to have a weapon around camp.”

“What are you saying?” V asked, confused.

“I get the feeling the nomad lifestyle is starting to feel a little too constricting,” Cassidy mused, “I think Laz and the rest of the older folks think you’ll storm off and join the army or something if they give you a chance.”

V thought about that for a moment. It was true, no one seemed to have an extra gun to spare for him to practice with, but he hadn’t thought much of it. And yeah, maybe going off and doing something exciting sounded nice, but is that really what he wanted?”

“I dunno kid,” Cassidy shrugged, “now ain’t the time for deep thinking. We’ve got a busy day tomorrow, gotta take the long way back to camp to make sure we ain’t followed. Should be a bed in the other room, you take it and I’ll sleep out here.”

V did so, sliding onto the lumpy surface of a decades old mattress. Despite his exhaustion, sleep did not come easily.

* * *

  
  


It had been two days since Panam had seen V, and she was beginning to worry. She had grown used to hunting him down daily to yell at him or to have him popping up at inopportune times while she worked. Going from his near-constant presence to complete absence was a bit of a shock.

She’d checked with Mitch and he hadn’t seen him. The balding mechanic hadn’t seemed worried, in fact he almost seemed amused by how upset she was. Next she went to find Cassidy, but he’d been nowhere to be found. That was even more worrying as Saul was still in camp which meant Cassidy wasn’t out scouting.

Still, the camp wasn’t small. There were nearly a hundred people in total, it was possible they’d just missed each other. But the nagging feeling that something was up just wouldn’t leave. In desperation, she decided to hang out in his tent, figuring he’d have to come there at some point to sleep.

She was awoken sometime during the night to loud voices. Blearily she looked about, not recognizing her surroundings until she realized she must have fallen asleep in V’s cot. The implications behind it made her blush, but she forced those thoughts down as she stood and opened the tent flap to the loud argument beyond.

A crowd of people had formed around those speaking. Lazarus was yelling, her mother and Cassidy were there as well. And there was V, looking as haggard as she’d ever seen him. He met her eyes almost instantly, a strange look on his face as he no doubt wondered why she was staring at him from his own tent. But she was distracted by the words that Lazarus was yelling.

“...never in all my years as head of this family have I been so disrespected!”

“Laz, calm down,” her mother said, “let’s not go overboard here.”

“I can not believe this,” Lazarus bit back. “You went behind my back and put the whole family at risk for what, some Militech scraps?”

Cassidy and V both looked thoroughly dressed down, and Panam had a startling realization of what they must have been doing the last few days. She made her way closer through the throngs of people.

“It’s stuff we can use,” V tried, his normally cheery voice replaced with one that sounded worn and raw.

“I don’t want to hear it from you whelp,” Lazarus snapped at him, “no idea why Cassidy wanted to bring a child along with him but you do not speak until I tell you to.”

“Now the kid’s got a point,” Cassidy argued, “those cybernetics are clean as a whistle, they can help a lot, and we brought no heat down on the family.”

“It was a clean job then?” Lazarus sneered, “no complications?”

He motioned towards his own arm and Panam could see that Cassidy’s matching sleeve was stained the dark, ruddy red of dried blood. She fought the urge to gasp, looking towards V to see if any similar stains were present, but none were.

“I didn’t say that,” Cassidy bit back, “but we all know that’s how it goes sometimes, and it all ended up fine.”

“Oh sure, this time,” Lazarus roared back, his voice rising even louder, “but what about the next time? One mistake is all it takes, these corporations won’t think twice to kill every last one of us. What the hell were you thinking Cass?”

“It wasn’t him,” V cut in, interrupting whatever Cassidy was about to say. “I was the one who wanted to do this.”

“He’s the adult, he’s the one who should know better,” Lazarus said dismissively, “and I told you not to speak until spoken to.”

“Stop treating me like a child,” V argued, “I’m just as much to blame as Cass.”

“Fine,” Lazarus said, his voice low and dangerous, “explain to me what the hell you were thinking.”

“I just wanted to help,” V said desperately, and Panam could hear the slight catch in his voice. It hurt her to hear it.

Lazarus glanced at Panam’s mother, eyes narrowing slightly before turning back to V, a mocking smile on his face.

“I bet I know just who you wanted to help,” Lazarus said cruelly. “I bet I can figure out just what was going through your mind.”

V said nothing, but Panam could see his jaw clench and his cheeks redden in anger.

“See, I think Tertia here has been having headaches and her daughter’s been worried sick,” Lazarus’s voice raised in volume as if he were telling a story to the crowd.

Panam can see V is looking down now, his hair hiding his face as his hands ball into fists.

“And so, V thinks he can save the day and impress her at the same time,” Lazarus said mockingly, “is that about right.”

V said nothing even as Cassidy opened his mouth to speak. But Lazarus waved him off.

“You were so focused on your little schoolyard crush that you were willing to put the entire family in danger, does that sound about right.”

Panam felt her cheeks redden in embarrassment. Her and V had been dancing around their feelings for a little while now, the hope that maybe they could be something more than friends, and she knew that others must have noticed. But to have it spelled out so cruelly in front of everyone felt like the worst sort of violation.

“Well, what do you have to say for yourself boy?” Lazarus said, his voice dropping to that dangerous tone again.

“Fuck. You.” V bit out as he lifted his head, eyes flashing with rage and cheeks as red as Panam knew hers were.

It happened in an instant. V threw a punch, but despite his age Lazarus had experience in spades. He blocked it and drove his right fist squarely into V’s face, dropping him. Panam felt her legs move instinctually, carrying him towards him. But the crowds were too thick as Lazarus raised his voice again.

“I want you out of here by morning,” Lazarus said, “and I never want to see you again. Go find a gang to join, or let the army kill you. I’m done.”

An audible gasp rose up from the crowd. No one had been kicked out of the clan for decades. Panam used the surprise and confusion to slip by them, working her way towards where V had fallen. Cassidy was already helping him up and dragging him away from the crowd of people.

“Shit kid,” she could hear Cassidy say, “he really did a number on that eye. Let’s get you over to my tent, I’ll patch you up.”

V said something too quiet for her to hear as she approached but whatever it was made Cassidy to shake his head.

“Damn, too much to ask for I guess,” Panam heard as she got closer.

“What is?” She asked as she reached his side, sliding under his arm to help Cassidy get him to the tent.

“Most things I guess,” V said cryptically. Blood was streaming down his face from the cut and it was already bruising.

They moved in silence after that. Everything they wanted to say felt like too much, so they said nothing.

They reached the tent and V sank into one of the chairs. His arms were on his knees and his head hung low, the very picture of dejection.

“Hey,” Panam said with the tiny amount of enthusiasm she could muster, “it’s not so bad, we will figure this out.”

“I can’t believe he banished me,” V said slowly as if the words were just now sinking in.

“Maybe we can talk to him?” Panam turned to Cassidy, but the man shook his head.

“I don’t think so,” the man said sadly, “what he did, it hasn’t been done in a long while, but it’s not something he can change once it’s been done. As long as Lazarus is the leader of the clan, V’s out.”

Nobody said anything for a long moment as Cassidy began to clean up the cut with some sort of spray that Panam didn’t recognize.

“This sucks,” V said, and Panam could only nod.

“Listen kid,” Cassidy said slowly, his voice full of emotion, “I never wanted this to happen. I wish there was more I could do.”

“I was the one who came to you,” V said wryly, his eyes growing watery.

“And I should have told you to go with the flowers,” Cass grinned sadly.

“Dunno about that,” V grabbed the man’s hand firmly, letting him pull him to standing.

The eye already looked better to Panam, the swelling reduced and the harsh red line the only thing 

“You’re gonna need every advantage you can get out there,” Cassidy said gruffly, holding out the card that Panam recognized as the key to his car.

“Cass, I can’t,” V protested, but Cassidy shook his head.

“Nope, not gonna hear it,” Cassidy said, “there’s some money in the glovebox. Get yourself to one of the cities, try to find some work, and take care of yourself.”

“I will,” V said slowly, nodding his head before turning towards her.

“Panam,” V said, not quite meeting her eyes, “walk with me to the car?”

“Of course,” Panam said quietly, following him out of the tent.

They skirted the edge of camp, both of them understanding the need for a bit of privacy. It seemed as if they both were bursting to speak but couldn’t quite seem to start.

“I should have listened to you,” V said finally, “you told me to just leave it alone and I couldn’t.”

“I wish you had,” Panam said sadly, “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you around.”

“Yeah?” V asked with a half-smile, “you’ll probably get a lot more work done at least.”

“Definitely,” Panam nodded, “you’re quite the distraction.”

This seemed to make him smile for real, and Panam took the chance to thread her fingers through his, wrapping herself lightly around his arm as they walked.

But all too soon they reached their destination and she reluctantly let him go. He turned to her slowly.

“I just…” he began before shaking his head, “there’s a lot I’d like to say and…”

Panam couldn’t help but think how cute it was to see him struggle to think of what to say.

“If we only had more time,” V said sadly, “I’m sorry that we won’t get that chance.”

He went to turn away and Panam groaned, grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him towards her so their lips could meet.

Neither of them were experienced, there was no finesse as they kissed. It was raw and passionate and desperate all at once. After what felt like a million years and half a second, they pulled apart, panting slightly.

“This isn’t goodbye forever,” Panam said quietly.

“Of course it isn’t,” V said with a bright smile that Panam had desperately missed. “Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out. Next time you see me I’ll have my name in lights and all the eddies I could ask for.”

“Yeah,” Panam laughed lightly, “I’ll hold you to that. Here, I want you to take this.”

Panam pulled her pistol from the holster on her hip and pushed it into his protesting arms.

“It’s not a gift,” she said, cutting him off. “It’s a tool to keep you safe. And I’ll expect it back someday, so you’d better take care of it.”

“Count on it,” V promised quietly before he pulled her into a desperate hug.

For a moment it was just them, just two people holding each other under the Texas moonlight.

But all too soon he pulled away and she watched the taillights fading in the distance, hugging herself with tears on her face.

  
  


* * *

Four years later V leaned against Cassidy’s well-worn car, looking out over the California sunset. There it was in the distance: Night City.

He’d taken any and all jobs he could find out in the wilds of the southwest. He’d struggled to keep his car running and his belly full.

He’d spent two years in the army during the Unification War. He’d been given combat training and a handful of cybernetic upgrades in exchange for the shakes and the nightmares. As far as V was concerned, he and the army were square.

Now it was time to make his mark. Everyone knew Night City was the place where fame and fortune could be earned at the end of a gun, and you were just as likely to end up dead in the gutter. He’d take those odds. He’d survived worse.

Memories of artillery fire, of friends dying in a spray of bullets tried to bubble up in his mind but he forced them down. Now was not the time.

He slipped back into his beat-up ride and fired up the engine. In the passenger seat sat Panam’s old pistol, the silver metal polished to a near shine. He hadn’t forgotten his promise to make something of himself.

“Night City, here I come,” V said, smirking to himself as he floored it and rode off towards his future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished the game the other day and while I thought it was a good story, I felt like there was a lot of meat left on the bone. All the endings felt a little melancholic which I found kind of frustrating but I think it fits the setting and themes of the game. It was not quite the story I expected.
> 
> Anyways, this will have some canon elements in it but will mostly be the story I wish they'd told. Expect some big changes, especially in regards to Johnny and V's situation and the relationship between V and Panam.
> 
> Please leave a comment. Feel free to praise, ask questions, criticize, or make suggestions. It helps keep me writing.


	2. The Heist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After years of struggling at the bottom, V and Jackie get the chance for the job of a lifetime. But sometimes things that sound too good to be true really are.

A phone call pulled V from his sleep, and he sat up slowly as the ringing continued. Only one person had the permissions necessary to push through this early in the morning. V tapped the metal behind his ear to answer the call.

“What’s up Jackie,” V said groggily as an image of his friend appeared in front of him.

“Come on vato,” the large man’s voice was full of cheer, “it’s nearly noon, we’ve got work to do!”

“We doin’ crime in the middle of the day now?” V said with a smirk as he stretched slowly, working out some of the tightness. The bones in his left arm and part of his spine were mostly metal now, thanks to his time in the army, and they tended to ache in the mornings.

“We’re not the corpos,” Jackie laughed, “Regina called me, she’s got a job for us. Nothing shady about it, just smash and grab.”

V pulled himself up, stumbling over to check his fridge for food. Regina was one of the best fixers in Watson. She had steady work and most importantly she was trustworthy as far as fixers go. She’d put a bullet in your head if she had to, but she wasn’t the type to churn and burn her people. Six years of mercenary work in the city had taught V just how valuable that was.

“Preem,” V smirked, “but if there was nothing shady about it then we should just call the cops.”

“Eh, they don’t care about the poor folks down in Watson,” Jackie laughed, “that’s why they need heavy hitters like us to take care of things.”

“Yeah, heavy hitters who can barely keep the lights on,” V rolled his eyes, “what’s the pay? Chump change again?”

V made his way towards the bathroom while Jackie laughed.

“Eddies are eddies mi amigo,” Jackie said, “our time is gonna come, we’ll get to the major leagues soon.”

V shook his head as he kicked up the toilet seat to relieve himself. Jackie’s dream had always been to make a name for himself, it was why they got along so well.

“Oy pendejo!” Jackie called out, “are you taking a piss while I’m on the phone?”

“What, we ain’t that close?” V smirked at him, “afraid you’ll see something and get jealous?”

“Please,” Jackie scoffed, “I’m a Heywood boy, we’re as big as they come. I’m downstairs grabbing some noodles. Get your ass down here.”

The phone call cut off and V turned towards the shower. The hot water turned on as he stepped in, set to a temperature just shy of scalding. It was how he liked it. Ever since the war, he’d hated cold showers.

V rolled his head from side to side. He’d needed bionic joints and titanium-enforced bones in his arms and upper back to repair the damage done from manning heavy artillery favored in the war. It always ached a bit in the morning. He also got a detoxifier in his liver and a set of synthetic kidneys to handle the drug cocktails they’d been given to keep fighting. The withdrawals had been unpleasant to say the least.

After showering, he grabbed the black pants from the couch and pulled a grey shirt from the small closet. He strapped his empty shoulder holster under his right arm and grabbed the worn leather jacket from his chair before slipping into his boots. It was all well-worn and comfortable, perfect for the type of work he often found himself doing. Flashy clothes were never his style.

He slipped out of the apartment into the wall of noise that the megabuilding always seemed to generate. He headed down the stairs and past the handful of shops. The lunch rush was in full swing and the smells of Japanese noodles and Mexican spices filled the air.

Coach Fred was there, beating on a sparring bot with powerful jabs. They were friends of a sort, but V didn’t try and get the man’s attention. There was work to do.

“Hey V!” A voice called out and V looked ahead to see Robert Wilson’s doughy form waving at him. “Got your pistol all fixed up, come around and I’ll grab it for ya.”

“Sure,” V nodded and headed around to the front desk of the gun shop.

“Freshly polished and clean as a whistle,” Wilson handed it stock first through the small opening in the bulletproof barrier. “And since you paid up front we’re all square. Sure I can’t interest you in something newer? This old Nue is practically an antique.”

“No thanks,” V smirked, “it’s got sentimental value.”

“Suit yourself,” Wilson shrugged, “anything else I can do for you?”

“Nah, got work to do. I’ll see you around.”

Wilson turned back towards the various workbenches in his shop and V stepped onto the elevator, pressing the button for the main floor. He twirled the pistol idly like the cowboys from old gunslinger holos he’d watch sometimes before holstering it under his right arm. It was as familiar as a weapon could be, and it brought with it a pang of regret and longing for a family he’d had so long ago.

But now was not the time for reminiscing as the door to the elevator opened and he stepped out onto the ground floor. He made his way down the steps onto the main square, weaving deftly through the crowds until he spotted a large man on a barstool, hunched over a bowl of noodles.

“Hey Jackie,” V said as he slid into the seat, “how’s breakfast?”

“It’s lunchtime fool,” Jackie laughed, “you’d get breakfast if you woke up before the afternoon.”

“Eh, not my style choom,” V shrugged, “so what’s this job you were telling me about?”

“Nice and quick one,” Jackie sat his empty carton down with a satisfied sigh, “some low-level Biotechnica suit stole a prototype after they bounced him, we gotta get it back. It’s got a tracker on it and everything.”

“Wonderful, love working for corpos,” V sighed and Jackie gave him a commiserating look.

“A job’s a job,” Jackie swung his legs out from under the tiny bartop. “Besides, it’s only for a few hours. We’ve done worse.”

V couldn’t argue with that. After he and Jackie had met while trying to smuggle a lizard into the city, there’d been some rough years. They’d taken whatever they could, from gang fights to digging through garbage. Beggars couldn’t be choosers in Night City. Fortunately, they’d built their reputation among a few of the more legitimate fixers that they could be a little more selective. The work they got was steady, if usually uninteresting.

“Time’s wasting,” V stood as well, using his cyberdeck to call his car. “Sooner we start, the sooner we get paid.”

“It’s gonna be a walk in the park,” Jackie laughed.

* * *

V threw himself over the overturned metal table and ducked low as bullets flew over his head. Jackie was to his right behind a parked truck that was eating a considerable amount of lead.

“A walk in the park huh?” V smirked at the larger hispanic man who rolled his eyes and said something very vulgar in spanish.

The tracker had led them to a warehouse where their target was attempting to sell the prototype to a handful of Maelstrom gang members. Gangs were usually best to be ignored, but if they didn’t deal with them now they wouldn’t get paid.

“So what do you wanna do?” V yelled over the noise.

“Guy up in the rafters,” Jackie motioned upwards, “can’t do anything with him up there, think you can overload him?”

Maelstromers were easy to hack, their bodies far more modified than the average NC resident. Most of them were more machine than man.

“Should be able to,” V shrugged, “just gotta get eyes on him.”

“I’ll draw their fire. Once he’s down you come out swingin’ and we’ll take ‘em down.”

Got it,” V nodded as Jackie leaned over the truck and began to fire his pistols.

V chanced a look at the walkways above them and caught the glow of a half dozen lights on Maelstrom face mask. Those tech-heads were never subtle and V thanked his lucky stars for that as he toggled his cyberdeck down to overload before ducking back into cover.

“Got him Jack,” V called out, “he’s going down in 3… 2… 1…”

V could hear the telltale sound of an overload, the buzzing of electronics and hissing of sparks. The rest of the Maelstrom gangbangers seemed to pause at the loss of overwatch and V and Jackie spun out of cover to take advantage.

V lost himself in the sounds of bullets and Jackie laughing.

* * *

An hour and a half later and V was laying out in Viktor’s clinic. The old ripperdoc was focused on his left arm and repairing the damage a stray bullet had caused.

“Gotta tell me kid,” Viktor asked as he worked, “do you have to get shot every time you get in a fight?”

“Just got bad luck Vik,” V laughed, “good thing I got you here, right?”

“Yeah, just not for me,” Viktor grumbled, but there was an undercurrent of fondness there that made V smile. The old man was as gruff as they came but he reminded V of Cassidy a bit.

“Come on, don’t you want my business?” V goaded, “I practically keep the lights on myself.

“Yeah, you know other clients pay ahead of time right?” Viktor grumbled, “not ‘whenever they can’ or ‘right after their next job.’”

“Hey, you know me Vik,” V said honestly, “you know I’m good for it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Viktor went back to his work.

“So how’s it look,” V asked as the doctor finished his work.

“It’s alright,” Viktor shrugged, “say what you want about those military upgrades but they’re built to last. Still, I gotta tell you to be careful. The ‘ganic part of your arm is mostly scar tissue now, any more damage and you’ll need it replaced with a full prosthetic.”

“Maybe it would help my rep,” V joked, “we’ll paint it silver and I’ll learn to play the guitar.”

Viktor shook his head at the joke but V could see the smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Just be careful,” Viktor said as he slid his cart away from the operating chair, “I know how much you boys want to make something of yourselves but you can’t do that if you’re dead.”

“Yeah, I got it,” V nodded.

“Want me to do anything about that scar on your eye?” Viktor motioned towards V’s face.

“I told you, that one stays,” V said, sitting up, absentmindedly scratching the spot where Lazarus had punched him all those years ago.

“Still don’t want to tell that story?” Viktor smirked. It was a familiar conversation.

“Maybe someday,” V said as he stood slowly. “Thanks Vik, see you later.”

“Hopefully not anytime soon,” he called out as V let himself out through the metal gate and headed towards the back door of Misty’s Esoterica.

Jackie was relaxing in one of the comfortable chairs while Misty fiddled with his palm. V had never put much stock in Misty’s business, but Jackie was hanging on every word she said. Whether that was because he believed her or because they had a thing for each other was debatable.

“Hey V,” Jackie perked up, “how’d the checkup go?”

“Good as new,” V flexed the fingers of his left hand as if to show there was no damage.

“Muy bien,” Jackie nodded, “listen, guess who I just got off the phone with? Dexter fucking Deshawn!”

V raised an eyebrow. Dexter Deshawn used to work out of Pacifica, he’d had quite the reputation for big jobs. Last V had heard, he’d been out of the city for years.

“He’s back in town?” V asked, his brow creased.

“Got a job and everything and was looking for talent, our names came up!” Jackie said excitedly, hands held wide.

“Why is he up here?” V asked, “why not down in Pacifica?”

“Who cares,” Jackie exclaimed, “this is our big shot, a job with Dexter Deshawn will put us on the map!”

“Alright Jackie,” V shrugged, “I just want to make sure we don’t get burned that’s all.”

“Look, just talk to the guy and you’ll see,” Jackie pointed towards the door, “he asked for you by name, he’s parked down the road in the limo. Go see for yourself.”

“Alright I will,” V nodded, “don’t get your hopes up though.”

* * *

The neon lights of Lizzie’s Bar cut through the darkness of Night City, highlighting the smog and smoke that flowed through the air.

V approached it warily. Dexter Deshawn had laid the plan out with smooth reassurances, but V had not survived in this city for six years by being careless. If something sounded too good to be true then it usually was, and an experimental Arasaka biochip that could be stolen by a handful of mercenaries definitely qualified.

Still, he’d told Jackie he’d keep an open mind and that’s what he intended to do. It was time to see what Evelyn Parker had for them. It was fortunate that he’d been to Lizzie’s Bar a few times before. He reached the entrance, guarded by two women.

“Hold up there gonk,” the pink-haired one with a baseball bat he vaguely remembered as being named Rita said. “Gotta listen to the rules before you head inside.”

“I’ve heard them before,” V said, “not my first time here.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Rita shrugged, “always good to get a reminder. No touching, no grabbing. If you want a braindance you use the catalog. You fuck up and we fuck you up.”

“Got it,” V rolled his eyes, “I’ll be good, got no reason to get the Mox set on me.”

“My favorite answer,” Rita gestured towards the door with her bat, “have a good time.”

V walked into the lobby, lit by blacklight and blue and purple neon. The hostess greeted him and he returned it with a nod as he made his way deeper into the bar towards.

He slung himself into a stool at the bar and motioned for the bartender, a neatly dressed man with glowing blue eyes.

“What can I get you sir,” the man asked as he leaned in to speak over the loud music.

“Information,” V asked discreetly, “looking for Evelyn Parker, is she here?”

“I’m sorry sir,” the man shook his head apologetically, “I don’t recognize the name.”

V could tell he was lying, but that was how it usually went.

“Look, I have a meetin’ with her,” V said slowly, “so if your memory improves could you let her know I’m here?”

Before the man could respond a voice to his left drew his attention.

“It’s okay Anders,” a blue-haired woman in a sparkling silver dress said to the bartender, “I’ll take booth one if it’s open.”

The bartender nodded and V turned his attention back to the flashy woman.

“You’re Evelyn?” V asked.

“Let’s talk in private,” she said and strode past him. V stood from his stool and followed in silence.

She walked with a sultry sway, the 

The booth she led him to was dimly lit with a circle of comfortable cushions around an empty table, a hologram of a naked woman dancing alluringly above it.

“Cozy,” V said drily as he took a seat. Evelyn did not reply as she checked the locks on the door and turned the music up, no doubt to prevent anyone from overhearing.

V was impressed by her cautiousness, and he took the moment to size her up more carefully. She was dressed sensually, all skin-tight fabrics in bright and shining colors. Her golden nails were pristine, and her wrists and fingers were adorned with jewelry. It all screamed sex worker, but why the hell would she be paying to rob Arasaka then?

“So, Dex said you wanted to meet with me,” V said as she stood before him, “said you had some intel for us.”

“I do,” Evelyn said, her voice low and sultry. V had the feeling it was reflexive. “I wanted to make sure you were up to the task.”

“And? What’s your first impression?” V asked slowly. It was unusual, a client who wanted to meet the mercenaries. It probably meant she didn’t trust Dex.

“Not sure yet,” Evelyn shrugged almost carelessly, “have you been working with Dex long?”

“No,” V said shortly. No use lying about it, “but Dex doesn’t keep a steady crew and we know each other by reputation.”

That was sort of true, although to pretend like he and Jackie had the sort of reputation this job would usually require was a reach.

“What did your fixer tell you about the job?” Evely continued.

“Not much,” V shrugged, “Arasaka biochip, and that you had more information but you wanted to meet.”

“Alright, let me be frank,” Evely said as she crossed her arms, “there’s an experimental biochip being stored in the penthouse at Konpeki Plaza, I want it stolen.”

“Konpeki Plaza?” V couldn’t keep the confusion off his face, “why the hell would it be there?”

“Yorinobu Arasaka stole it from an Arasaka lab two weeks ago and has been storing it there since.”

“The heir to the Arasaka? Why would he steal from his own father?” V asked.

“Yorinobu and Saburo do not see eye to eye as I’m sure you’re aware,” Evely shrugged as she pulled a cigarette from a case and lit it, “if you want more than that you’ll have to ask one of them.”

“Funny,” V rolled his eyes, “what’s on this chip?”

“You’re familiar with the Arasaka Relic program, correct?” Evely asked.

“Sure, I see those ‘save your soul’ ads all over the city,” V shrugged, “gonna let celebrities copy themselves so you can have your own personal Lizzy Wizzy singing in your ear or whatever. But why is that worth stealing? Seemed more like a party trick than anything.”

“Whatever this is, it’s more than that,” Evelyn blew cigarette smoke towards the dancing hologram and it flickered slightly, “but whatever it is, it’s worth a lot of eddies to certain groups.”

“Alright fine,” V nodded, “if Yorinobu stole it, that probably means security is a lot lighter than it should be.”

“Exactly,” Evelyn nodded, “just his normal entourage. And the security at the Plaza may be better than your average hotel, but it’s hardly up to Arasaka’s normal standards.”

“So all we need to do is break into the penthouse when Yorinobu isn't there, that seems simple enough. Do you know where we’re looking when we’re up there? And what about security in the penthouse itself?”

“That’s the intel I have for you,” Evelyn’s eyes flashed and she gave him a conspiratorial smile, “I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

* * *

“Hard to believe a hotel like this only has a single netrunner,” V said from his position on the couch of the Lapis Lazuli suite at Konpeki Plaza.

“Eh, these hotels are always cheapin’ out on shit like that,'' Jackie shrugged from his chair in the corner. “They paint the walls gold to cover up the rust underneath. Probably don’t expect people to keep important stuff like this at a hotel.”

“Yeah I guess,” V shrugged, “how you feelin’? You ready?”

“I was born ready,” Jackie gave a broad smile, his hands laced behind his head as he reclined. “Gonna stroll into Afterlife after this and order myself a Jackie Welles, you wait and see.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” V laughed, “not sure if one job earns you a drink at that bar.”

“Just the first of many mano,” Jackie gave a satisfied sigh.

T-Bug’s digital face popped up in front of them.

“If you two are done with your naps, I’ve broken through. We’re good to go.”

“Orale,” Jackie stood, clapping his hands together, “let’s get this show on the road.”

V nodded as he stood as well, heading towards the door. He took one last look around to make sure nothing was missing. The place was spotless, as if they’d never been there.

The walk towards the elevator was tense, as both of the men began to feel the stress of what a mistake now would mean. The halls were mostly empty, and they passed the concierge desk in silence. As they entered the elevator, the button for the penthouse flashed up and V pushed it. Once the doors closed, V let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“You ready?” V asked as the elevator ascended. Jackie only nodded, his smile replaced with one of grim determination.

The doors to the penthouse opened and it was just as Judy had shown him. He spotted the cameras above and he hoped that the Kiroshi eye that Viktor had slotted in was as good at blocking facial recognition as he promised.

V took a step into the room and no alarms sounded. That was a good sign. They made their way over to the safe’s location.

“Jacking in to the safe now,” V said as he knelt and pulled the cable from his wrist, slotting it into the nondescript opening on the floor.

“Got it,” T-Bug said over comms, “it’ll just take a second.”

V ignored the code flashing through his right eye as T-Bug hacked the system. It was mostly gibberish to him, he worked with T-Bug so he didn’t need to know this stuff.

“Look at this view,” Jackie motioned towards the bay windows. V couldn’t help but agree. The hotel was located on the beach and the Pacific Ocean could be seen under the moonlight just outside.

“Focus up Jack,” V smirked.

“Eh, just passing the time,” Jackie laughed.

“Shit,” T-Bug swore, “we’ve got a problem.”

“Can’t get it open?” Jackie asked, his smile fading slowly.

“Not that,” T-Bug’s voice was almost panicked, “Yorinobu just entered the lobby, three guesses as to where he’s headed.”

“Shit,” V swore, “do we have time to get out of here?”

“No, I don’t think so,” T-Bug swore, “gonna take me another minute to open this thing at least.”

“Fuck,” Jackie swore, pacing quickly, “fucking hell.”

“Shut up, let me think,” V yelled out. “Anywhere to hide in here? Check the schematics Bug, there’s gotta be something.”

“Let me see. Here we go, there’s a compartment inside the main pillar, accessible from the back. I’ll open it for you.”

Almost immediately a trap door opened a few feet away.

“Alright cool,” Jackie was talking faster now as well, “so we grab the box and hide until he’s gone.”

“Too risky,” V shook his head, “if you had something worth a fortune in the safe wouldn’t you check on it? What if he’s grabbing it to sell it to someone?”

“What do we do then?” Jackie asked.

“Bug, if we pull the chip can we hack the case to read that everything’s normal?”

“Sure, but that chip’s going to degrade outside the case. Needs to be kept cold, remember?”

“Shit, I forgot,” V said.

The safe opened, and a black case lifted slowly from beneath the floor.

“Yorinobu has reached the elevator,” T-Bug announced. “I’ll slow it down but he’ll be here soon.”

“It’s a biochip right?” V asked and Jackie nodded. “What if I slot it in? Should be fine if it’s supposed to go in someone’s head right?”

“You wanna put an experimental chip in your head?” Jackie gasped, “are you loco?”

“If Yorinobu went through all this trouble to steal it then it’s not like it’ll just be some virus right?” V argued. “It’s our only shot.”

“It’s your head vato,” Jackie muttered, “but we gotta make a choice right now.”

“Open it,” V commanded and Jackie did so with a few taps on the case’s screen. A single red and black chip was fitted into the electronics of the case.

V pulled the chip out slowly, carefully. It looked like any other chip to his eyes. Carefully he reached behind his head and slid it in an open slot on his cyberdeck.

There was a flash of harsh blue lines that crossed his vision, blinding him for a moment. It cleared quickly and his sight returned.

“You good?” Jackie asked, grasping his shoulder.

“Yeah, I think so,” V said with more confidence than he felt. “Close the case, I’ll hack the system so it reads normal and Bug can close it up.”

They did so quickly.

“Get in the pillar,” Bug said with more intensity than V had ever heard from her, “ETA five seconds.”

They threw themselves into the compartment and it slid shut only moments before the door opened and Yorinobo strode in quickly. Behind him lumbered the large bodyguard V had spotted on Evelyn’s braindance.

“Holy shit, that’s Adam Smasher,” Jackie whispered.

V felt a rush of blind anger flash through his mind at the large cyborg. He vaguely remembered the terror Evelyn had felt, but there was something else that he couldn’t place. It was gone as quickly as it came.

“Why does Yorinobu look so nervous?” V whispered and Jackie shrugged.

It was true, the man was pacing wildly, nearly panicking. Smasher seemed unaffected, leaning against the wall near the entrance.

“Oh hell,” T-Bug swore in the comms, “more trouble. A helicopter just landed on the roof. Hotel’s got no identification, no passenger list. Not good.”

V’s mind ground to a halt. A hotel like this would never let an unidentified aircraft land. Whoever was inside was either extraordinarily wealthy or very powerful, probably both. And there was only one person powerful enough to make Yorinobu Arasaka shake in his designer shoes.

V’s fears were confirmed as the door up the stairs to the helipad opened, a bodyguard holding it as an elderly man stepped into the penthouse.

“It’s the damn emperor himself,” Jackie whispered frantically, “what the hell is Saburo Arasaka doing here?”

“Quiet,” V whispered, “no way this thing is soundproof.”

Saburo Arasaka stood tall despite his advanced age. His skin was wrinkled and spotted, his hair reduced to a few wisps. He wore an unassuming yaori and looked as if a strong wind would knock him over. And yet, V felt more fear than he ever had in his entire life. By all accounts this was the most powerful man in the entire world. His ruthless pursuit of global economic and political dominance for the Arasaka Corporation was spoken of in hushed tones all across the world.

“What’s he doing outside of Japan?” Jackie sounded frantic as the Arasaka elder slowly walked down the stairs to his waiting son. “I thought he never left New Tokyo?”

“No idea,” V whispered. “Quiet!”

“Did you think you would get away with this?” Saburo asked as he reached the ground floor of the penthouse.

“No one should do what you are trying to do,” Yorinobu fired back, passion in his voice even as V watched his hands shake in fear.

Jackie met his eyes, a look of bewilderment shared between them. Were they talking about the biochip? Or something else?

“That is not for you to decide,” Saburo said, “you dishonor me with your actions, and I will not let it stand. If you thought to escape me in a city I control, you are more foolish than I thought.”

“Father…” Yorinobu said slowly, but he did not seem to have anything else to say. V could see his hands shaking at his side.

Saburo pulled a pistol from his waist and shot his son between the eyes.

V’s blood turned to ice. Jackie’s eyes were wide as manhole covers and he had a hand in his mouth to stifle a gasp.

“What’s going on?” T-Bug asked in the comms, but neither Jackie or V answered her.

“Takemura,” Saburo said calmly as he held the gun out for his bodyguard to take.

Both Adam Smasher and Takemura seemed unaffected by their bosses actions, the latter quickly taking the murder weapon and tucking it away somewhere on his person.

“Retrieve my property from the safe,” Saburo said as he walked back towards the steps to the helipad.

Takemura walked to the spot on the floor where the safe was located without reply. It was apparent that this penthouse was familiar to him as he quickly opened it, pulling the large black case out of its confines.

“Is it stable?” Saburo asked, and Takemura pressed a few buttons. V prayed that his hack held under the scan.

“Yes, Arasaka-sama,” Takemura nodded, closing the vault.

“Excellent,” Saburo began to climb the steps towards the helipad. “We must return it immediately. Adam, sound the alarm once we’re gone. My son was killed by an unknown assassin and you valiantly killed them and destroyed the room in the process. Make it happen.

“Yes sir,” Adam Smasher’s metallic voice ground out.

“Good,” Saburo nodded. “Takemura, come.”

V and Jackie’s eyes met. A moment of confusion and a sliver of hope was shared between them.

“Bug,” V whispered, “we need an exit strategy. Elevator’s blocked and Smasher’s gonna put the hotel on lockdown.”

“What happened?” T-Bug asked quickly.

“Saburo offed his son,” Jackie supplied shakily.

“Hurry Bug,” V urged, “Smasher’s gonna start destroying the place.

“Alright, there’s a service elevator on the roof, ladder is outside next to the balcony. It’s a narrow gap but you might be able to make it.”

“Whatcha think V?” Jackie asked as Smasher tapped the communication pad near the entrance to the penthouse.

“Dunno if we can sneak by him, we’ll be sitting ducks,” V shook his head.

“Dammit I wish we had our iron,” Jackie shook his head.

“Wait, there’s a pistol on Yorinobu’s night stand if we can get to it,” V said quickly. “It’s not much but it’s something.”

“I’ll go for it,” Jackie’s jaw was set, “you head for the balcony.”

“Jackie, no,” V protested.

“We don’t have time for this mano,” Jackie shook his head, “and you’ve got the chip. You go and I’ll catch up with you. Bug, open the panel.”

The entrance to the compartment slid open and Jackie stepped out, moving quickly towards the bedroom. Smasher noticed him immediately and turned, his eyes flashing red like some sort of metal demon.

V stumbled out of the compartment behind him. Suddenly, his vision went hazy, filled with electric interference. He fell to one knee. He could see Jackie out of the corner of his eye opening fire, desperately trying to use the bed as cover as Adam Smasher returned fire.

He watched through hazy eyes as Jackie fell, a hail of bullets filling him. V tried to cry out, taking an involuntary step forward and out from behind the pillar.

“What do we have here?” Adam Smasher ground out, his voice as mechanical as his body, “another rat?”

V turned towards him, hatred flooding him as he reached for a gun he didn’t have. Smasher laughed.

“Is this your friend?” He ground out.

The cyborg reached a robotic hand out, cybernetics whirring to life as it expanded into something bulkier. V recognized the missile launcher for what it was only seconds before it whirred to life, firing towards Jackie’s body.

The light from the explosion burned his retinas, the image of Jackie’s body seared into his vision even as everything disappeared. The force of the blast propelled him through the bay window.

He fell towards the water below wrapped in broken glass and metal and fire. He was unconscious before he reached the surface.

The next thing he knew he was on the beach, pulling himself desperately to his hands and knees and vomiting seawater. He looked around blearily, confused.

He looked up. Even through his blurry vision he could see the top floor of the hotel was on fire, flames licking the night sky.

“Must’ve only been out for a minute,” V said raggedly to himself. “T-Bug, you still there?”

Her line was dead. That wasn’t good. He switched to another line

“Delamain,” V called the taxi, “I need pick up, now.”

“Certainly sir,” Delamain’s even voice chimed in, “I see you are no longer at the plaza, would you like me to come to your location?”

“Yeah,” V muttered, “as close as you can.”

The taxi must have taken that to heart because no more than forty-five seconds later the car had driven down onto the beach itself, its tires sinking slightly into the wet sand. V pulled himself slowly into the back seat.

“My sensors indicate that your health is less than optimal sir,” Delamain commented as the car turned to drive back up to the road. “There is a complimentary first-aid kit under my passenger seat if you care to use it.”

V leaned forward slowly, painfully, and pulled the white box with a red plus sign out from under the seat. The kit was fully stocked, but all he could manage was to pull a MaxDoc out and take a heavy puff before he’d fallen asleep from exhaustion. His last thoughts were of Jackie as a tear fell down his cheek.

* * *

V woke up as the Delamain taxi stopped. Streams of rainwater running down the windows blurred the harsh neon signs of the No-Tell Motel. He pulled himself upright.

“We have arrived at our destination,” Delamain’s voice cut in. “Thank you for choosing Delamain for your transportation needs and please enjoy your evening.”

V didn’t have the energy to respond, pulling himself out of the cab. He tucked his pistol in his waistband behind his back and headed towards the front entrance.

The handful of people milling around the lobby paid him no mind as he passed them by. The clientele here knew it wasn’t wise to let their eyes wander. This was a place to do business and leave in that order and as fast as possible.

He climbed the stairs and made his way to the room number Dex had given him, knocking twice. The door slid open to reveal Dex’s massive driver. The hulking figure pushed V back without a word, glancing both ways before shifting to allow him entrance. V fought the urge to glare at the man.

Dex stood inside facing a TV screen, cigar hanging out of his mouth and his brow furrowed.

“V,” Dex said, shaking his head, “what the hell happened? You all over the news. Even the pirate stations are talking ‘bout somebody blowing up half the Plaza.”

“Adam Smasher happened. Saburo Arasaka showed up and killed Yorinobu,” V said slowly, too tired to give any more detail.

“You don’t say?” Dex raised an eyebrow. “Did you at least get the chip?”

“Yeah,” V turned his head and motioned to the slot behind his ear where the chip rested. “Jackie didn’t make it.”

“My condolences,” Dex said in a tone empty of all sincerity. V felt a stab of anger but kept his face calm. He just wanted to be done with this.

“I gotta get out of town for a bit,” V said, “lay low until the heat dies down.”

“You don’t say,” Dex shook his head. “Look, I’ll call up Evelyn and set up the drop, you go get cleaned up.”

“Cleaned up?” V asked and Dex gestured towards his face and neck with the lit cigar.

“Your face man, it’s covered in blood. You look like a damn walking crime scene. Just, pull yourself together and we’ll get this figured out.”

V didn’t have the energy to argue, trudging towards the door and closing it behind him. Dex was right, a dozen cuts along his face and neck were dripping blood, running down and staining the white dress shirt he still wore.

As he closed his eyes to scrub his face, images of the last few hours ran through his mind like some sick slideshow. Watching Saburo execute his son, watching Jackie diving for the pistol, and seeing Smasher turn him into dust. His heart clenched and rage filled his bones as he drew a fist back and punched the mirror, cracking it down to the cement blocks behind.

He pushed his anger down, compressed it until he could breathe again. He couldn’t lose control, he had to be able to think to get out of this.

He rinsed his face until the water ran clear before he shut it off and turned towards the door. Opening it, he had just enough time to register the hulking figure awaiting him when a fist that felt like a ten-pound hammer knocked him to the ground. He reacted without thinking, throwing a wild right hook that Dex’s driver caught, spinning V around and putting him in a choke hold. V flung himself back, desperate to break the hold but couldn’t do so. He was helpless.

As V struggled, Dex approached, his normally calm demeanor gone and replaced with a furious scowl.

“Just take the fucking chip Dex,” V spat out.

“Every corpo cop in the city is gonna be blastin’ down these doors after what you and your psycho friend did,” Dex snarled. “We didn’t need all this cocksuckin’ attention, dammit.”

Dex nodded to his driver and the giant man shifted his grip and began to squeeze, cutting off V’s breathing. He struggled wildly, arms flailing uselessly against the larger man’s cybernetic arms.

“Sorry V,” Dex sneered, “it’s only business.”

He was going to die. Dex was going to kill him and walk away. Adam Smasher was going to get away with it.

Something in his mind seemed to snap and he was filled with foreign hate. His vision glitched, a flash of blue and suddenly he wasn’t in control anymore. It was like watching a braindance where he could feel everything but had no control. 

He felt his leg reach up and drive back, catching his captor between the legs. The man fell forward involuntarily, enough for V to reach the ground. V felt his body lean forward and push with all his might, flipping the larger man over his head and breaking the hold.

The gun behind his waist was out in an instant, strangely held in his right hand even though he favored his left. His finger squeezed the trigger twice and the driver fell with a pair of holes in his skull.

Dex’s look of anger was replaced with panic as he stumbled backwards, trying to pull his gun. As he worked it free, V felt himself fire another shot, shooting the man in his gold-plated hand and causing the gun to slide wildly across the room.

Dex fell on his ass, his back against one of the couches that lined the room, seemingly trying to string words together. V felt his mouth move and a voice that barely sounded like his own came out.

“Sorry Dex,” V sneered, “it’s only business.”

V emptied the clip, firing shot after shot into the fat man until the slide locked back. As the room descended into silence, V felt a foreign urge to smoke grow in him and he felt his hands tapping around his pockets as if to find a nonexistent pack of cigarettes.

He shook his head and the feeling lifted. He could begin to feel his extremities again, as if he were coming out of a braindance and regaining control of his body. He turned his hands around slowly, examining them. They looked the same.

He shifted his pistol back to his left hand, closing the slide and slipping it back into his waistband.

“What the hell was that?” V wondered to himself. He reached a hand back to feel the ridge of the biochip stuck in his head. That had to be the cause, but what the effect?”

The sound of police sirens ringing in the distance snapped him back to the situation at hand. The No-Tell Motel had a liberal policy on what went on in their rooms, but it didn’t extend to gunfights and murder. He needed to get out of here. And if he was having a cybernetics issue he knew exactly who to talk to.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think you can see where I'm going with this. If not, I'm sure you will soon. I pulled the hotel scene from the 2019 E3 trailer, that video made me so excited for this game.
> 
> Also, I didn't like that the game killed Saburo, he's like the poster child for all the evil in the Cyberpunk world. I think he makes for an interesting antagonist so I went a different route. And now Johnny and V both have motivation for killing Adam Smasher.
> 
> This chapter had more canon stuff than I expect to use in future chapters. Hopefully I kept it interesting for you.
> 
> I love reading comments, please leave one if you have the time.


	3. Love Like Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of last chapter is shown through a few other points of view. V struggles to deal with the aftermath of the heist and the biochip that is stuck in his head.

A dusty wind blew harsh and cold across the badlands outside of Night City. As hot and humid as the days were, the nights held their own against them. For a lone figure prone in the dense scrub on a hill overlooking a bandit camp, the cold was almost welcome. It kept her awake.

Panam Palmer held the cold metal of her old Techtronika sniper rifle. She’d nicknamed it Overwatch years ago, thinking it would help her protect the clan from afar, and it did most of the time. But it was only a gun and she was only one woman.

She kept watch through the scope of her rifle, taking long slow breaths to keep it steady as she observed the camp below. The ruins of an old gas station and a handful of shops from back when people still used gasoline made up the hideout of a particularly nasty group of bandits. Fortunately, they were dumb as rocks.

Three of them had come out to patrol separately, making wide sweeping paths around the abandoned ruins. She’d picked them off silently all within twenty yards of each other. It was like shooting fish in a barrel if the fish all came to the same spot. Still, she maintained constant vigilance. The more of them she could take out from a distance, the safer she’d be when it came time to clean up the rest of them up close.

It was a shit job, and Panam knew it. But that was just the way it was. The pay was good, most of the jobs that Rogue offered were, and Panam assumed the only reason she’d been given work by the top fixer in the city was because finding people who knew the badlands well wasn’t easy. Still, it didn’t stop her from calling Rogue a bitch under her breath whenever she had to grovel and bow to the queen of Afterlife.

The ringing in her earpiece distracted her momentarily, and she tapped it quickly.

“Hello,” Panam said quietly, not pulling her eye from the scope.

“Sorry to bother you at work,” Mitch drawled, “hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”

Panam felt the corner of her lip twitch upwards.

“Just taking potshots at gangbangers,” Panam said nonchalantly, “I can talk.”

“Oh good, glad you could make time in your busy schedule,” Mitch said, and Panam could practically feel the man’s eyes roll. “Just thought you should know Saul found out about the work you’ve been doing, he’s pissed.”

“I told him to his face I was going to find some merc work in the city,” Panam scowled, “what the hell is he upset about?”

“There’s a difference between running a few jobs and taking the most dangerous work you can find,” Mitch argued softly, “he’s just worried. We all are.”

“I can take care of myself,” Panam argued, but Mitch cut her off.

“Believe me, I know,” he said, “but we’re a family, you shouldn’t have to do this shit alone.”

“It’s easier to get work as a solo,” Panam replied, “and the jobs I’m taking make the most eddies. The faster we can build up some funds, the faster we can get the hell away from this cesspit of a city.”

A fourth person emerged from one of the buildings, wandering towards where Panam had dropped his companions. She followed him carefully with her rifle.

“You can’t help us if you’re dead,” Mitch said harshly, but his voice softened. “At least let Scorpion and I help.”

“Hold up,” Panam said quickly as her target stopped to light a cigarette. She held her breath and lined up her shot, squeezing the trigger gently. One shot from the silenced rifle and the unsuspecting criminal fell to the ground.

“Sorry,” Panam shook her head, “look, I don’t need someone watching my back.

“Everybody does Panam,” Mitch argued, “you need someone out there covering your six even if it ain’t me.”

“Look, I’ve got to go,” Panam deflected, “I’ll call you when the job’s done and I’m heading back to camp.”

She didn’t give Mitch a chance to reply, tapping the earpiece to end the call. She knew everything he’d say anyway, it was an argument they’d been having for a long time now.

The last thing she wanted was to put someone from her family in danger. If something happened to them, she didn’t think she could bear it. Her mind went to a certain boy with a bright smile who’d been sent away all those years ago, but she pushed those memories down as fast as they came. Dwelling on the past did not do her any good.

Her phone rang again and she tapped the earpiece eagerly.

“I told you I’m working,” Panam snapped

“Easy girl,” her mother’s voice came through, thin and proud just like her. “Just checking in on you.”

“Sorry mama,” Panam apologized, “I thought you were Mitch.”

“Whatever he said, I’m sure I agree with him,” her mother joked and Panam shook her head.

“I’m sort of in the middle of something, what’s up?” Panam replied.

“Are you in the city?” Her mom asked, a sliver of worry in her voice, “do you know what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” Panam asked, “I’m still in the badlands.”

“Oh good,” her mother’s relief was evident. “There was an attack, something about a hotel in the city center. I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

Panam raised her eyebrow. She swung her rifle to her left towards the city, looking through it carefully. In the distance, she could see the hotel. It looked like Konpeki Plaza, but she was far from an authority on the landscapes of the city. The top of it was awash in flames, dark smoke billowing up into the night sky.

“Shit, I can see it,” Panam swore.

“Language,” her mom chastised out of habit.

“I’m twenty-five mom,” Panam rolled her eyes, “whatever’s going on, I’m safe. I’m finishing up my work and I’ll be back by morning.”

“Alright dear, I love you.” Her mom replied and ended the call.

Panam’s gaze lingered on the tower in the distance. If someone had attacked the city center, the police would be out in droves tonight. She needed to finish her work quickly and head back to camp, no time to wait for these jackasses to wander outside one by one.

“I hate this city,” Panam said as she pulled back her rifle and prepared to approach the hideout on foot.

* * *

He had grown used to the emptiness. Even his memories had faded. They were like watching someone else’s holos. All he had was the empty blues and blacks of his prison.

He slept a lot. It wasn’t actual rest, but he had no better word for the lack of consciousness he felt for large swaths of time.

He’d felt a shift recently, he couldn’t tell what caused it but his environment had shifted. It had compacted somehow, or maybe it had solidified. It was more a feeling than anything tangible. The digital construct he lived in still resembled Arasaka Tower.

Then things were changing. Cracks in the facade began to appear. His digital prison broke bit by bit, flashes of the real world came through like the morning sun after a long cold night. It was all hazy, like he was seeing it through a shroud. His own memories came crawling back in pieces, a face here, a feeling there.

The first big break came with a gravelly voice, metallic and inhuman. A memory flashed to his face of his arm lying disconnected and broken next to him, metal still creaking and twitching. He was filled with so much anger, the first real emotion he’d felt in decades.

It faded away like a bad dream, but it was enough to help him stay awake. He railed against the muffling nature of his digital prison, holding onto the rage and anger, using it like a lifeline to pull himself from the heavy muck that wrapped around his mind.

He felt a stab of grief that was not his own about a person he did not recognize. It felt wrong, like he was witnessing something he shouldn’t be. He pushed it away.

Then came the fear, the panic. It was all encompassing, filling him. He was going to die. It was all happening to him again.

His prison shattered. The sights and sounds and smells of a dirty hotel room awash in tacky neon flooded him. Arms were around his throat, squeezing tight.

“Sorry V,” a fat black man blew cigar smoke in his face, “it’s just business.”

His mind raced. Who the hell was V? He was Johnny fucking Silverhand! The arms around his throat tightened. Memories flooded his mind, a blonde woman lifeless in his arms. He’s falling from a helicopter. A man he recognizes but cannot name is vaporized in a ritzy hotel room.

Anger floods him, adrenaline coursing through his body.

He kicks back, catching the thug holding him between the legs. He flips him, a practiced motion born from countless bar fights and mercenary jobs. He reaches for his pistol, but finds it missing from his waist. The slip almost costs him, but he remembers it’s behind his back and pulls it quickly.

It’s not right, not exactly. It doesn’t have the weight his Malorian has but it gets the job done. He drops the big goon and turns to his boss. A name floats across his lips.

“Sorry Dex,” Johnny relishes the panic in the man’s eyes, “it’s only business.”

He squeezes the trigger.

His consciousness fades after that, but the digital prison is gone and it feels a lot more like rest. He sleeps for the first time in fifty years.

* * *

V didn’t remember how he made it across the district. The next thing he knew Viktor was helping him to his operating chair, carrying most of his weight for him. V was glad his ripperdoc had been a boxer in a past life, he doubted Misty would be able to support him like this.

V felt a stab of guilt at the thought of telling Misty what had happened. He had to call Mama Welles too, she ought to hear it from him instead of a news report.

As he sank into the vinyl of the ripperdoc’s chair, the exhaustion of the last few hours really hit him. His eyelid felt like weights, and he struggled to keep from shutting them.

“Hey,” Viktor snapped his fingers near his face, “no sleeping in the chair. Tell me what’s going on.”

V pulled himself up with a groan.

“You were right Vik,” V said sadly, his eyes drifting down to the floor, “job went to hell right from the start. Jackie’s gone.”

“Shit kid,” Viktor grasped his shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. The man wasn’t much for emotions, but V appreciated the effort nonetheless. “I wish I’d been wrong. Jackie was a good kid. What happened?”

V motioned towards the screens across the room that were playing the news, the image of Konpeki Plaza with its roof on fire clearly displayed.

Viktor gave a low whistle.

“Do they know who you are?” Viktor asked after a long pause. V knew the man was really asking if there would be cops here at any minute.

“Don’t know,” V shook his head, “only one who saw us was Adam fucking Smasher and he threw me out a window, pretty sure he thinks I’m dead. But once Saburo figures out what we took I don’t think he’ll be satisfied until he finds it.”

“Those are big names you’re tossing around,” Viktor said gravely, “what the hell have you got yourself into?”

V couldn’t do anything but shake his head in frustration.

“Why come here in the first place?” Viktor asked, “why not just hightail it out of town for a while?”

“Right,” V turned to the man, “we stole a biochip, some Arasaka prototype. It had to be kept on ice but we couldn’t take the case so I slotted it in. Ever since then weird shit has been happening. I need you to check it out.”

Viktor gave him a flat stare.

“You put an experimental chip in your head with no idea what it did?” Viktor asked slowly. V could feel the man’s incredulity.

“Hey, we didn’t have a lot of time to think,” V defended lightly.

“Clearly,” Viktor rolled his eyes. Here, slot into this.”

Viktor motioned towards the biomonitor to V’s left and V pulled the cable from his wrist, connecting it to the piece of medical equipment. Data began to scroll down the screen at a blistering pace. Viktor grabbed a data pad and began to tap on it, eyes quickly scanning across it.

“So what’s going-” V began, but Viktor cut him off with a raised hand.

They sat in silence for a minute or two, Viktor looking more and more confused. Finally, he gave a sigh and tossed the pad haphazardly onto the metal table next to him.

“That bad?” V said weakly, but the doctor shook his head.

“I have no idea,” Viktor shrugged.

“Care to elaborate?” V said tersely, “any guesses?”

“That chip in your head is the most complicated piece of technology I have ever seen.” Viktor said, “it’s connected wholly and completely to your brain on a level that I’ve never seen before.”

“Of course it’s complicated, it’s a brand new prototype by the biggest company in the world,” V replied, “but what does it do?”

“It’s a brain,” Viktor said slowly, and V raised an eyebrow.

“Like an AI?” V asked, but Viktor shook his head.

“No, like an actual, human consciousness. You’ve got someone’s brain connected to yours.”

“Whose?” V asked quickly.

“No idea,” Viktor shrugged, “but that’s not the point right now. It is vitally important that the chip stays right where it is, you can’t remove it.”

“What? Why?” V panicked.

“Look, if it was an AI, whatever, no big deal. An AI may be able to think but it’s still just a piece of code. But in your case, when you plugged that chip in, your mind and the mind of whoever was on the chip started to mix.”

“Mix? What the hell does that mean Vik?”

“I can only guess,” Viktor tapped the fingers of his mechanical hand against his knee, “but I do know that you and that chip are actively connected, if you pull it you’re gonna cause a brain hemorrhage that you won’t survive.”

“Shit,” V swore, and Viktor nodded.

“It ain’t good kid,” Viktor said gravely. “Have you been having any hallucinations, issues with motor control, anything like that?”

V stilled as he remembered. In the hotel, he’d felt himself move without choosing to do so. He’d felt such strong hatred and he hadn’t understood where it came from.

“Yeah,” V croaked, “yeah, earlier. It was like I was watching a braindance. I took out Dex and the big thug he drives around with.”

Viktor nodded as if it were expected.

“Give it to me straight Vik, what do you think is happening? Gimme your best guess.” V implored the ripperdoc.

“Best guess? Your chip was probably meant for use in a robot or someone braindead, something without a mind of its own. You got two minds mixing together like oil and water right now, and only one body between them. It’s like a car with two drivers and one steering wheel. The other mind took control for a bit.”

Whatever V had expected that wasn’t it, and he felt himself fall back into the vinyl chair.

“You mean to tell me,” V said slowly, his frustration growing quickly, “that I’ve got somebody in my head controlling what I do?”

“Not controlling you,” Viktor said patiently, “but maybe trying to take control of your body. This is all just a guess at this point, we need to wait and see how it affects you in the coming days.”

“Fuck,” V swore. “It’s never something easy is it?”

V could feel himself getting angrier, and he pushed himself up to his feet to pace around the room.

“This whole fucking job was fucked from the start Vik,” V yelled, turning towards the Ripperdoc as if he held the solution tohis problems. “Jackie was so gung-ho for it and I knew it was bad, I fucking knew it!”

Viktor made no move to respond, simply sitting there in silence, and V continued.

“And it turns out we’re robbing Yorinobu goddamn Arasaka, but I go along with it because the plan seems good. What a joke. He shows up and his dad comes in and kills him, he just fucking executes him right there in front of us! And then Adam Smasher shows up and just kills him, just blows him to fucking dust Vik.”

V’s anger was morphing into grief even as he kept rambling.

“And he just threw himself in front of that fucked up cyborg so I could escape,” V was choking now, his vision blurry with tears, “and he’s just… he’s just gone Vik. I can’t believe he’s gone.”

He felt his legs give out from a mixture of grief and exhaustion, and Viktor caught him near the floor, pulling him into a solid hug.

“It was gonna be me and him,” V was babbling now, “the major leagues, just me and him.”

“I know V,” Viktor’s gruff voice was soothing in his ear, “it’s gonna be alright, it’s gonna be okay.”

It wasn’t, but V felt a surge of appreciation for the old ripperdoc anyway. They sat like that, knelt on the ground for a while until V’s tears dried up.

“Thanks doc,” V said thickly as they both pulled themselves up. Viktor clapped him on the back.

“Go home and get some rest,” Viktor said, “you’ll figure out what to do in the morning. Call me if you experience any more symptoms.”

“Can you,” V felt himself choking up, “can you talk to Misty for me? I just don’t think I can right now.”

“Sure kid,” Viktor said quietly, “I’ll let her know. But come by and see her soon, you two should get through this together.”

V could only nod, a lump in his throat as he headed towards the door and back out into the night.

He made it home in record time, stumbling into his apartment and falling into his bed. He’s asleep before he can get his shoes off.

* * *

V is stumbling through a building he doesn’t recognize. The rumble of muffled rock music is so loud he can feel it in his chest.

“Hey sexy,” a girl calls out to him on his left but he ignores her.

He’s angry, but he can’t remember why. It’s like poison, filling his bloodstream and burning him from the inside out. He pulls a cigarette out of his pocket with a metal hand, lighting it quickly and taking a heavy draw.

The music is getting louder and he’s suddenly to the left of the stage. There’s an empty mic and he knows it’s his. The rest of the band is playing but he knows they’re waiting for him.

“Of course you’re fucking high,” a stagehand mutters as he hands over a black guitar. V doesn’t even bother responding.

He takes the stage with confidence. Everyone’s eyes are on him and the crowd goes wild. His bandmates give him varying looks of disbelief at his presence. As if he’d ever miss a show.

He feels the rush that comes every time he’s on stage. He pulls from his hatred and anger as he begins to play. He tries to let it out on the mic, tries to finally be rid of it. It doesn’t work. It never does.

Then he’s storming his way out of the building, his bandmate chasing after him.

“You don’t have to do this,” the younger man begs. He doesn’t understand. It’s always been about the music for him.

“That’s the difference between us,” V says with a sneer, “you’ve always been a fucking pussy.”

His bandmate has no response, and V turns to push the doors open.

A woman with dark hair and piercing eyes meets him, her jaw set. V feels a sense of wistfulness at the sight of her, a mixture of happiness and sadness that he doesn’t quite understand.

Then he’s in the air, manning a machine gun and gunning down guards.

Then he’s following the woman down a set of stairs and into a tower, dropping a heavy bag into an elevator. He opens the zipper enough to see the radioactive label.

Then he’s on his own, hacking into the building’s broadcast system.

He’s climbing up the stairs to the roof, his pistol empty as he dodges gunfire.

He jumps, and she’s got him and it’s all gonna be ok.

Then he’s falling and he keeps on falling forever.

* * *

V woke up with a start, covered in sweat and panting heavily. His dreams were confusing, vivid and familiar in a way that didn’t make sense. His head was pounding.

Suddenly he realized he was not alone, a shadowy figure stood above him.

“Lights on,” V called out and the apartment was flooded with light. “Holy shit!”

The exclamation was involuntary. He raised his hand and Johnny Silverhand raised his hand in tandem as they stared back at each other.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a shorter chapter this time, but I think it's an interesting one even though not a lot new happens. Next chapter is going to be about Johnny and V and kick off Act 2 properly.
> 
> Don't leave a comment. What's that? You're strong and independent and you don't listen to strangers on the internet? Dang, you sure showed me. I guess you better leave a comment then.


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